


Forever is a lie.

by IceBreeze



Series: Zombie AU [1]
Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5865202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceBreeze/pseuds/IceBreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neil had a long list of trials that he expected to face in his lifetime. Zombies was not one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever is a lie.

**Author's Note:**

> So my finger slipped and this is the result, as I had alot of feels and saw this fandom didn't have a zombie AU yet. I felt the need to rectify that and here came this .

Neil had always known death. He had been raised among it, in a family that took their pleasure, life and money from it. He’d seen people tortured by his father for hours until the life was finally ripped out of them, seen (and experienced) what weapons could do to people and had been taught to use them himself. He spent eight years on the run from it, always looking over his shoulder as far too many close calls reminded  him that death was around every corner and, if he wasn’t careful, it would be on him without mercy. He had the facts beaten into him as they kept on going- not living, but surviving.

To live was to be free.

Survival was to follow the rules and run, run, _run._

But then Millport happened and he broke every rule for the sake of exy- his one joy- and found a team (a family) that he fought tooth and nail for. They were far from perfect, sure, but they were the best thing to ever happen to him and every second with them was completely worth painting a neon target on his back saying _‘I’m here, come and kill me,’_ to everyone who wanted him dead (and alot of people wanted him dead). It was worth facing death and almost not coming out of it as confrontation after confrontation came and spat in his face, at his choices and said _‘you’re a fool.’_   He finally had something to fight for and fight he will.

_(Andrew always said that he was a natural at pissing people off. By that point it was either go big or go die, so it didn’t really matter)._

He suffered and struggled, but he was still alive (actually living, for once) and had gained so much (a love he had never thought possible, the freedom to play his passion, a life to look forward to). For once in his life, he had so much to lose. He had known that the threat death posed wasn’t over. He knew that someday, things would turn for the worst and this time, they wouldn’t get out alive. He had known. But he had believed (truly believed) that it wouldn’t come for years. He had thought they were safe, because surely it wouldn’t happen so soon after their last crisis?

_(A fool to the very end)._

He had never expected this. He had never expected the end of the world. He had never thought to worry about it because surely he’d be dead by the time it comes to play? Surely such a thing wouldn’t happen?

And despite the knowledge that this is definitely real- that Nicky was dead, Andrew was gone and he would probably join them soon if he didn’t do something- he still hoped that it was a nightmare.

_(Why was it never just a dream?)_

Nicky had been the first to turn. They’d been in Columbia that night, just the three of them (Aaron and Kevin were both out with their respective girlfriends. Or they had been. Who knows if they’re still alive). He and Andrew had been sleeping together, whilst Nicky had his own room. Everything had been fine, all of them drinking (Nicky the only one drunk) and it wasn’t until four hours later did it begin.

A crash had come from Nicky’s room, followed by the sound of something battering against the wall. Andrew had jolted awake, already out of the bed by the time Neil was alert. By the time they reached the door, concern had dwindled out into fear because _why would Nicky be making such noise?_   Andrew had started to push the door open, only to jump away from it as Nicky came crashing out and into the wall and oh _god_ , please say that wasn’t Nicky. Please say this wasn’t happening, that he wasn’t drooling and groaning as he scrambled and charged blindly, unable to see through bloodshot eyes as his skin decayed and the stench of burnt flesh filled the air.

_(Death will always find you)._

But it was, and Andrew was the first to recover as he shoved a wristband towards Neil before lunging, driving a knife through Nicky’s eye and into the brain. Nicky fell to the floor, the wound gaping where blood should be and oh, oh-

_(”It’s about family. The one we chose.”)_

-oh _god._

Neil looked up, mouth open to say something, only for the words to vanish when his eyes landed on Andrew’s arm and he felt his blood run cold. For there lay scratch marks, running up the expanse of skin from his wrist to his elbow, oozing with blood and steam as it began to fester. The skin seemed to burst, blood flow stopping short with a sickening hiss and as Neil forced his eyes to Andrew’s, fear gave way to pure, unadulterated horror.

_(Please, not him)._

Something rose in his throat (bile, his heart or his stomach. He didn’t know which) as he saw those eyes that never wavered, always saw everything and said more than words ever could glaze over. Tan skin turned pale and pasty, like it was made of plaster and his body loosened in a way Andrew would never allow- it was too clumsy, too defenseless. He watched him stumble forward, nostrils flaring as he pinpointed something and he advanced on Neil. He dragged himself in sluggish movements that would have Kevin shrieking about form, arm outstretched, letting out a groan that was far too loud, far too animal, far too _wrong_.

And in that moment, he knew: Andrew- the one who always said he would never leave him alone-

_(”I never break my promises.”)_

-was _gone._

Neil couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think because he was about to die if he didn’t do something, but Andrew had _lied._ He was gone- dead and lost and it was painful in a way that death had never been to him before.

(He wondered if this was what grief felt like).

His grip tightened on the knife in his hand, barely feeling the pain that lurched to the surface as it cut through his skin (when did he take it from the sheathe?), mind to focused on trying to sort through the torrent of emotions and thoughts that battled to take control; on trying to get through the constant cry of _Andrew_ and _why_.

He should be doing something. He should be fighting to survive- because that’s what you do when death comes, you take the weapon and stab it again and again until it’s just a pile of blood and bones on the floor- but his only thought was that this wasn’t death, it was Andrew. Andrew, the one who had given him a reason to live and to fight and had showed him what love could be (not that either would say it). He would never hurt him, never leave him and never cross the boundary- that was their silent promise to each other, spoke through actions instead of words. Promises were important to Andrew- they always had been, always would be and Neil wasn’t going to accept that death would change that. He wasn’t going to break Andrew’s trust, not when he’d fought so hard to gain it. Not when they’d been through so much.

_(Not when they’d finally grown to accept their love)._

And as Andrew lunged, mouth open in a snarl as he drew closer and closer, he knew. He couldn’t hurt Andrew. It didn’t matter if he was going to die, he just couldn’t do it.

_(He wouldn’t)._

The knife slid to the floor as his eyes closed and arms lowered to his sides. His mind focused on his memories _(of Andrew, the smell of cigarettes and lips against his. The whisper of words against his skin. Of the elation and adrenaline of Exy, the joy as they won despite the odds being stacked against them. The banter of the foxes as they all piled into the bus, tired and bruised but together, because that was where they belonged)_ body relaxing as he let everything go, whispering a final-

_“I trust you.”_

-before there was pain in his neck, the feel of teeth tearing through his skin, muscles and bone, a body crashing into his and the smell of burnt flesh and cigarette smoke washing over him.

Then the darkness fell and Neil was gone, gone, _gone._

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found on [tumblr.](http://polyhymina.tumblr.com/writings)


End file.
